


Ricochet

by Nyx_Quatorze



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Blood and Torture, Hurt!Spock, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-23 18:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 19,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10724397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyx_Quatorze/pseuds/Nyx_Quatorze
Summary: Missions can either go well or go horribly wrong. When a crew member falls in battle, what is to be done when retrieval is not an option and orders to leave orbit arise?





	1. And we were bold.

Everything had been going correctly in the beginning. Every communication revealed described no problems down below, every imagery that was established showed all was peaceful and well on the civilization. The crew of the Enterprise never expected anything to be other than an ideal landing for the planet side meeting. 

However, with the transporter pad acting faulty, and the meeting planet side of the utmost importance, a shuttle was used to travel down below in order to land at the determined time of arrival. Yet, a graceful landing never occurred, a warm welcome was not received, a meeting did not take place. As they were still several yards up, heavy ballistics type rounds hit the side of the ship, dooming it and resulting in a crash landing.

Captain Kirk, First Officer Spock, Dr. McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, Helmsman Sulu, Navigator Chekov and head Engineer Scott were aboard the transport shuttle as it took a dive, nose first, into the ground below. Metal warped, glass shattered, the crew jolted from shock as they were flung forward against their restraints.

Instantly Jim was hitting the release on his belt and rising to his feet. Blue eyes flickered to Spock at his side whom was following suit. "Status report." He demanded, moving to each member of the away team at a time, beginning with McCoy. 

"Bones--." He began but the doctor brushed the hand aside, all the while cursing all of them for putting him in such a tiny death trap and how he was going to kill them all once they got back to the ship. He was fine, Jim decided and moved onto Scotty.

Chekov and Sulu took the brunt of the damage from impact. While noise from behind ensured others were alright, Sulu groaned as his hand cupped his head, a gash across his brow oozed blood from hitting the consol. Brown eyes turned to the Russian, who sat far too still for his liking, head slumped to the side. He reached over, placing a hand on Chekov's arm. "Hey…Chekov. You alright?"

Jim ordered McCoy to the front to help Uhura who was already on her feet and moving to check the two men whom still have yet to get to their feet. "Scotty?" He questioned, the engineer brushed off his question, already at work trying to determine if anything was salvageable while Jim made sure their phasers were charged and ready for action. 

Uhura stepped to Sulu who waved off her concern. He needed to be sure Chekov was well before he was tended to, his head hurt but he was fine. McCoy stepped in to the cockpit, tricorder out and moving it across the youngest member of the group, who was the only one not responding. "He's alive." The doctor confirmed and Sulu relaxed with a breath, finally allowing Uhura to try to help remove the restraints.

"Come kid, I need you to wake up," McCoy started as he brushed off the broken shards of glass laying on the boy and another embedded deep into his shoulder. He pulled out a hypo before injecting it to try and numb the pain, which only caused the young Russian to inhale and sit up. "What happen?" He asked, accent thick. McCoy checked his pupils. "Jim, we need to get him back to the Enterprise."

"I'm ok, iz not so bad, I'm ok." the Russian responded but was silenced by, "The hell you are," from McCoy.

Spock was kneeling beside Scotty who was elbow deep in the ship's belly, "How is she looking Mr. Scott?"

"Naw goo'd commander she wonnea be fly'n again Sir," Came the progress update. 

Inhaling deeply, Spock glanced to Jim who turned back to the front of the ship. "Bones I need them ready to run in two," The fact that their craft had not yet been swarmed by whoever shot them down seemed to indicate they were a helpless bystander rather than the true target and the sounds of continued blaster fire above seemed to confirm his thoughts. "New objective. Get off this rock. Mr. Sulu?" 

"Yes Captain." Came the grunted reply as he freed himself finally from his chair. Damn restraint needed to be cut. 

"You're in charge, get everyone to a transport. Mr. Spock? You're with me. We're the diversion." Because even if it had been accidentally shot down someone would have seen it and since they'd been headed to land at an airfield anyway another shuttle shouldn't be that hard to find. 

"Spock to Enterprise," the Vulcan began as he assess the damage of that around him. "We have been shot down and could possibly be under attack. Keep vigilant, we are unsure who are our attackers and what is their objective. Protect the Enterprise, we are attempting to return as soon as possible." Spock spoke as he moved to Jim and inhaled slowly grabbing his phaser. "Spock out."

"Ready?" He questioned, clearly planning on having himself and Spock duck out first and draw away any who might be in the area away, allowing the others a better chance of escape.

"I am ready Captain," Spock said and inhaled slowly, looking back over his shoulder to see McCoy making a make shift wrap for their navigator before turning to do the same for Sulu and the others moving to grab phasers before Spock looked back to his captain. "I am at your side."

"Good. Let's go."


	2. We had ahold of the lightning strikes

The captain and first officer were quick to move. Their goal: cause a distraction to give the crew a clean break to get to the hanger. The life of their people depended on it and they had been thrown into the middle of a war zone.

From what could be seen there was two opposing sides; one dressed in crisp uniforms and moving in a tactical manner, and the other dressed in clothes that matched the surroundings and were not afraid to fight dirty. Attack did not happen instantly, it truly seemed as if the federation crew were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time when their shuttle had been fired upon. However within several seconds of skirting around debris and destruction, captain and first officer were being targeted.

Shots were taken the two crouched behind wreckage of another shuttle. Jim looked around, phaser at the ready, before turning his eyes to Spock. "What the hell is going on? As of last night all the arrangements for this meeting with the Sabins were all in order!"

"It appears as if there was something wrong with communications. We have not had actual contact besides our orders for nine hours." Spock responded as he kept his head down, shots flying overhead. 

"And Starfleet ordered us to go in blind?" Jim snapped and the Vulcan behind him responded with an affirmative. "They sent us into a damn ambush!"

"I do not believe we are the targets captain. It could be a war amongst their own people. We are simply caught in the middle." His words rang true for despite being shot at, they were hardly perused. "There was disagreements between the government and the people for attempting to join the Federation."

Jim glanced around, catching sight of McCoy's medical blues rounding a distant corner and a small squad of Sabins trailing behind. He was on his feet quickly, phaser taking aim and shooting one from behind. The Sabin slumped to the ground and the others turned to face Jim, shooting their weapons. Jim dipped down again and frowned at the sound of the rounds hitting their cover as. "Those ballistic style guns?"

Spock nodded as he turned his phaser around the other end of their hide away, shooting down those who took aim at Jim's last seen spot, "it appears to be. How those weapons are still in effect, I do not know."

Jim groaned as Spock took down the squad. "Come on, Spock, let's get this moving."

The diversion went smoothly, possibly better than they each had expected. The captain played target, Spock shot down those who revealed their positions in an attempt to shot down Kirk and for the most part, the rest managed to pass by unnoticed. A few stragglers were stunned by Sulu as Uhura led the group towards the hanger. 

Jim slid to a stop behind a large piece of metal, parts of a building perhaps. He waited only enough to gather his breath before rushing away from the shelter in an effort to draw fire elsewhere and yet again offer Spock the chance to pick a few off with pot shots given their attention was on the command gold. 

Spock pushed himself to race after Jim, turning his gun towards a handful of enemy soldiers who attempted to ambush the captain around the next bend. He took some down but one got close enough to raise up a large scepter like weapon in attempt to slash at them.

"Uhura...We could really use that ship right about now." He gave, keeping the comm channel open so that they could make their own retreat to the airfield once passage had been secured. Distracted momentarily with the comm he failed to see the assailant, who clearly had a better understanding of the area than they did, towering over him. "Shit!" Jim cursed as the blade was raised up.

Spock was less than a step behind Jim and fired two solid blasts at the attacker's chest knocking him onto his back stunned. Jim looking back to his commander, a silent thanks being delivered.

"Wait a moment captain! We are moving as fast--" Uhura's words were cut off by a series of shots before she returned, sounding exasperated. "As we can! Stand by!"


	3. And I was trying just to get you

The blaster shots knocked the sword wielding native back and he crumbled to the ground, Spock glanced around quickly while Jim commed Uhura. The Vulcan managed to get out of the way, back hitting a wall, as shots were aimed towards him, firing past where he stood moments prior and he raised own but their attackers fell to Jim's phaser. 

The two officers continued their distraction, Jim taking the lead in drawing attention to himself as Spock took those out whom revealed their locations. It would not be long before they would hear Uhura's comm. "Captain! We are in the hanger, stand by, we are searching for a ship!" Yelled the woman over the comm before curses in Russian could be heard on her end. 

Spock inhaled quickly and moved to stand by Jim. "We should make our way towards them. We do not want them sitting idle for longer than necessary waiting for us." 

"I agree. Get ready, so more are on their way." Jim summed up and from what he could tell those that shot at them were not actually military trained. Agreeing with Spock's assessment of getting to the hanger, he drew in a breath, repeating earlier actions and letting himself take on the blasts of fire from every which way while allowing Spock to follow and skillfully take down any who dared reveal their positions. They made a mad rush towards the hangers and beyond that the waiting shuttle.

Several times captain and commander were forced to duck behind walls and debris before being able to move forward. The Vulcan pushed off the wall racing after the captain, shooting all who rose a gun to his friend. The hanger was in sights and it wasn't long until Uhura's voice rang through the speaker of the comm. "Captain! We got a ship! It's in hanger bay four! You need to hurry! We are attempting to keep an opening for you!"

"Four Spock! Hanger Four!" Kirk shouted back, only a few paces ahead of the Vulcan who, despite his superior speed, kept a foot behind him, making sure to take out any who Jim might have missed. 

As Jim shouted back which hanger the two were going for, Spock nodded spotting quickly their destination, "I'm right behind you!" He yelled back.

Blaster up, Jim nailed the lock for the gate before them, the pair shouldering inside the airfield and they burst through the now broken gate, taking in a moment of won over surprise, rushing for the hanger while shooting at any who dared get in their way. They raced as quickly as they could, phaser blasts and ballistics style shots erupting all around them as members of either side of the battle field shot back at one another, literally throwing the federation crew into the center of a cross fire.

Advantage blown, Jim sprinted as fast as he could once they entered the hanger, a dead run for the open door where McCoy and Scotty, both looking a little worse for wear, were waiting, arms out stretched to catch both Captain and Commander. "Almost there Spock!" Jim yelled back over his shoulder, pushing himself faster, ignoring the burn in his lungs.

The enemy caught sight of them but the good thing was the two officers could see the ship, see McCoy and Scotty hands out stretched as Sulu yelled that they had no time to wait; the second the two were on the shuttle, they were air born and gone. A blast came from behind and pain erupted like fire in Spock's side and in that moment he twisted around quickly shooting back, successfully ending the missed assailant that was hidden just out of sight behind a broken down ship. He turned to face the others, his hand clasping his wound and he felt the damage before his mind was able to register it. Ballistic style shot. Multiple. Not good.

Already his side seeped blood through his fingers and he tried to push through, to ignore the fire of pain that rose inside of him but it was too much. Every step forward added to the pouring of green blood down his side, coating his hip and leg in an only instant and Spock stumbled, his knees getting weaker. A Vulcan heart beat of two hundred and forty beats per minute were working against him now as every pounding beat saw more and more blood pouring from his body. 

Jim was faster than he was now, almost reaching the others and Spock knew he needed to hurry, the crew could not wait another moment, but eyesight was beginning to blur, breathing became difficult, and legs were unable to keep him up anymore. He tried to ignore the declining percentage chance of survival that screamed in his mind, numbers trickling down with every faulty step taken. It would only be seconds before Spock slumped to his knees but a ragged breath later even that position was too difficult to maintain and down to the ground he went, eyes watching unfocused as Jim reached the waiting arms of his crew.


	4. And now I'm dying to forget you

Jim was focused and Jim trusted that the Vulcan right behind him would be there right behind him. There was no call of pain, no signal to let him know the other was wounded else Jim Kirk would have stayed grounded even as the shuttle blasted away from the surface. But there wasn't, so he didn't. He was too far distracted with reaching the shuttle as quickly as possible that he did not notice the color draining from Scotty's face or the widening of hazel eyes from Bones. He was far too distracted to see Uhura standing in the background hand clasping over her mouth and tears brimming her eyes or the look of horror from Chekov in the cockpit of the shuttle. Instead he reached out, snagging McCoy's hand first, the two officers waiting for them having clearly seen all that took place and Scotty hit the button to draw up the ramp to shut the bay door. There was nothing they could do.

Jim inhaled sharply as he stepped inside, skidding to a halt. He made it. Thank the stars. Yet the loud whirl of the closing shuttle hatch caused his head to snap back. Wait. Wait! Where was Spock?

Blue eyes went wide, dangerously so, at the sight before him, just out of reach, deep green blood splattering the landscape, "No! NO!" Even as he stepped forward towards to door, to force it open, to leap an impossible distance back down, McCoy grabbed him, struggling to pull him back. "NO! Spock! Let me go! Spock!"

He made it, Jim had reached the shuttle safely. The door closed and there was take off. Spock felt the coldness of death gripping at him, tugging him down, nevertheless Jim was safe. That was all that mattered. There was no more sound, no more blasts around him, though flashes of light in the corner of his eyes concluded that it was just he that heard the peaceful silence. One more breath, that's all he had to take, to make sure the shuttle reached orbit. Jim was safe. Jim… Jim was.....

"Scott!" Bones shouted along with, "Uhura my hypos!" Because Jim Kirk could see nothing other than getting back planet side and getting to Spock. Deftly with the help given Bones administered one sedative though that only served to get Scotty punched by a flailing captain. McCoy having suffered a few hits of his own before the sedative began to take effect and Jim was slumping to the floor but not entirely passed out. "Spock...Spock..." All he could manage at the moment, Spock was down there, they needed to get Spock. How could they leave him there? They needed to get to Spock.

"Dammit....He's dead Jim." McCoy had seen the shot blasted right through Spock's heart, the amount and darkened tint to the blood made it unmistakable. He'd been dead before he even hit the ground. "I'm sorry. We can't go back. He's gone."

"No...No..." Jim called out, his voice dying away as he stared at the ground. Even as Sulu and Chekov up front navigated them through the warzone and into space Jim struggled, did no one understand? They needed to go back for Spock. How could they? How could they leave him?

Jim's pleads did not make it easier. Sulu kept his eyes forward, getting the ship out of orbit. Guilt filled him, but they could not remain behind. They couldn't. They had no choice. They all would have died had they tried to retrieve their fallen commander. Chekov stared out the window, unable to tear his eyes away. This wasn't happening. Not really. It couldn’t be. It was not possible. Eyes turned to the pilot who stared ahead in silence. He did not dare speak, only moving to rest his hand against his shoulder that no longer seemed important. Commander Spock was gone.

Uhura slowly slid into a chair, tears pooling in her eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to be this way. This was supposed to be a simple meeting, assisting the planet in joining with the Federation, and then heading back to the ship. Together, all of them. Now Spock…God, Spock… She closed her eyes and tried to keep herself composed but tears fell, unable to be stopped.

Bones sat back as his eyes turned to Scotty, a bruise was forming on his jaw from the punch he received from Jim but otherwise he was fine, in shock, but fine. The Doctor inhaled slowly, looking to Jim who laid still sedation finally took over. It was not the first time they lost someone on a mission, but it was the first time they lost someone so close. The silence that lingered around them was deafening and far too soon was the Enterprise appearing before them. 

They had left him below. On foreign ground, in the middle of a war with no chance to retrieve his body. They just left him.


	5. Cause I knew I couldn't catch you

Sulu had seen them back to the ship safely. They had been targeted several times but the ace pilot had seen them from danger. The silence that rang out across the cabin of their stolen shuttle was deafening. Returning to the ship was a somber affair, the foreign craft parked in the shuttle bay while waiting medical teams greeted the crew, escorting each of them to medbay to survey and heal injuries big and small, physical only of course. It happened all so fast, too fast for anyone to actually come to terms what had happened yet it felt like it was months later they reached the Enterprise, minus their First Officer. Medical personal came and went, tending to Chekov, while Scotty was roused to his feet, Jim carried off due to the sedation while Uhura was given milder attention due to lack of serious injuries. 

Despite not needing much medical attention at all, Uhura had remained near the others, not wanting to be alone with her thoughts. She sat out of the way on a biobed, beside the resting captain. Sulu bore only the large gash across his forehead and Scotty received a shot to the thigh in addition to his hearing suffered being far too close to an explosion as they attempted escape. Chekov's shoulder was perhaps the worst of the injuries, having been greatly torn by the glass and suffered a fair amount of blood loss and then there was Jim, sedated, laying in silence. 

_Brown eyes peered at him from across the chess board waiting for Jim to take his turn._

_A steady and strong gaze peering across the bridge to Jim during an ion storm._

_A small smile that only he could make that filled his eyes as he noticed Jim watching him during a meeting._

_Spock, standing firm at his side during an inquisition and speaking up in his defense when accusations arose._

_Spock laying beside him on a bed, fingers intertwined and gazing into pool blue eyes._

_Spock's whisper of proclaimed love for the first time several nights prior while lips brushed his own._

When blue eyes flickered opened, there was a moment of uncertainty. A white room, bright lights, a sterile smell all pointed to him being in the medbay, however a growing pain in his heart and a wave of emptiness placed him back on the Sabin planet. Eyes closed, a breath was taken, and eyes reopened. For half a second he felt a flicker of relief for they had made it to the ship, they were alive. Yet it took a single beat of his heart to know half of him had been left on the planet below. There was a growing hole inside him, one that would not be filled again. Spock had fallen, Spock was gone. Spock would never again ask for a game of chess, never again scold him for breaking a rule, never again reach out to him when he was stressed, would never again look into his eyes or whisper his name or touch him ever again.

"Where is he?" Was half growled as McCoy tried to focus his attention elsewhere. "Damnit Jim...he's dead. Straight shot to his heart...Dead before he hit the ground." There was hurt as much as there was frustration and anger in the tone. This was hard on them all, not just Jim. 

Uhura closed her eyes as Jim demanded to know of Spock and how she hated what the reply was. He was still on the world below them. They left him. They had no choice but to leave Spock all alone, on the ground, with no one to tend to his body. The reality of that fact send a cold pain racing though her and she inhaled a gasp. McCoy's response only sent a shiver racing across her body. Dead before he hit the ground. 

Jim shook his head, unable to believe it, blue eyes unfocused as sedation was starting to wear off but landing on Uhura and locking his sights on her, "Did we...why aren't we going back? Someone needs to get Spock." Spock couldn't be dead, it wasn't possible, simple as that. There was silence that followed his words and since it seemed that no one was moving to do as he demanded, Jim worked to push himself up, trying to get himself mobile to lead the search party.

She looked to her captain, pain in her eyes as Jim started to rise. "There is...there is still a war down there captain. We can't go back. They intercepted and translator a comm. A civil war broke out because of Starfleet. We have been ordered to pull back. We...we can't get him."

Jim could only stare and listen, listen to the words and the emotions backing them. They'd left Spock there, _Spock._ He saw red however but his body wasn't responding , he couldn't take the action he wanted. "It'll be alright Jim. Go back to sleep." Ah well, that explained it. Bones. 

The anger that filled Jim's eyes was enough to turn hers own away. She hated what she had to tell him, hated that there was no choice but to leave Spock behind. Blue eyes fell shut once more, "I'll keep him under, to prevent him doing anything stupid, while Matthews gets us the hell away from here. Don't need more casualties due to planetary defenses being brought online." It was hard, McCoy was still so put together and he had to be, couldn't be the CMO without a thick skin, he could drown his sorrows out later. 

As McCoy spoke to get them to move, she nodded and slid off the table, going to ensure the Beta shift helmsman followed his orders. "I'll be right back," she promised, more for herself than to the doctor. She did not need to lose herself though she already felt her resolve crumbling.


	6. So I left the sky

Lights. Movement. Sounds. None that made any correlation to what had happened around him. There were voices but he did not recognize any of them. There were words but no matter how he tried to focus it just was too far out of his understanding. Pain, the pain was far too intense but in seconds it dulled, or perhaps it was days. He couldn't tell. There was no possible way to measure time here. Darkness with flashes of light, faces, there were faces looked down at him. Jim? He couldn't say whose, not until later, not until his body was forced into a uncomfortable position. Not until something filled his system and forced unfocused eyes open, but even then he could hardly grasp what was occurring. It must be McCoy and whatever medicines he had in his arsenal; however why was his body so twisted up? He was on his knees, arms behind his back. Nothing made sense. Hadn't they left the planet? Was that rope around his wrists, his neck? So tight. Too tight. It hurt, he could hardly breath. There was too much blood loss.

Vibrant eyes found his, as a hand, or maybe it was a phaser, a gun perhaps, he couldn't tell, tapped against his cheek. Eyes fluttered and rolled back, only for the tapping whatever it was to resume on his cheek. "Wake up. Open your eyes," were the first words he were able to understand. Spock forced clarity over himself as he looked to the man before him. Reality gripped the Vulcan, not his crew, not McCoy, not Jim. A Sabin. Spock inhaled laboriously, attempted to centered himself as his gaze endeavored to focus. 

"Now, there is no need to do this the hard way." The man spoke, his voice deep, throaty. The being before him had golden eyes, his skin was rough and reddish, marked with tribal lines across his face and down his neck. Overall, his face and body was humanoid, with the exception of his head, which his skin layered into what looked like armor plating down the top and back of his skull. His ears were almost vulcan like, only pointed backwards, ending in a sharp point with a row of spikes on the helix. "I am Mihk Tsail, the leader of the revolution. The government wished to join Starfleet, cripple the culture of who we are and taint it with misguided equality. I would not stand for this. Now," He leaned down, moving to where he was eye-level with the vulcan who struggled to keep his eyes open, "You were left behind by your crew, wounded, near dead. My men kept you alive. You have a choice: cooperate, and I will treat your injury, feed you, clothe you, and allow you to recover in peace. Refuse, I will make you talk and there will be so much pain that you would beg for death."

Spock drew in another breath, eyes locked on the gaze before him. He carefully ran a mental assessment of his frame. Whatever they have given him, had kept him alive, slowed the bleeding, perhaps stopped it all together. He must have had adrenaline as well, or something similar, for he knew not how he managed to remain awake and up right. His eyes closed as he breathed in another breath, tongue running across dry lips, his head dropping back for a moment before he righted it. Brown eyes opened as he managed to reel in his tired expression and grip to the impassive nature that was so natural to vulcans. Mihk Tsail watched silently, awaiting the Vulcan to voice what it was he planned to do. 

Spock shifted, rising up as much as he could, bounds tightening around his wrists and neck before defiance filled his gaze. He grounded his jaw and prepared for pain to come. He would not speak.

The Sabin leader rose up, understanding the change in position and a nasty grin spread across his face, "So be it. I assure you, I am going to enjoy this."


	7. And I fell behind

Pain did come, swift and efficient. No questions followed the beginning of the torment, not at the moment. It was strictly pain for his defiance to comply with the request of the rebel leader. However blow after blow had revealed that Vulcan pain tolerance was rather high. Fists would do little to get the officer to so much as verbalize discomfort, even when they collided against his injured side. The very first had pulled a single grunt from him before pain was registered and worked through him. He shifted mentally and kept his mind above it all and every other strike that followed had little effect.

Of course Mihk Tsail was not one to surrender easily. Where fists failed, weapons of torment were brought in. Blunt, sharp, thin, and hefty archaic tools were laid out before him on a rock made table. Spock had not seen the likes of them prior to this moment although there was no need. He knew what they were for and another breath was taken in willing himself not to give into the pain that was sure to come. 

The current blunt tool in Tsail's hand collided hard with the Vulcan's face. Had it not been for the bounds around his wrists and his neck, Spock would have collapsed to the side by the sheer force of it. Repeated strikes to the face, the last causing skin to break, Spock felt blood seeping down his flesh. He gritted his teeth, forcing back another reaction to being hit, not a single sound left him. There was bruising, he could feel it. His eye was beginning to swell shut and his lip was split, oozing green down his chin.

The Sabin looked down at the vulcan before tossing the tool aside. There was anger in his eyes. He had expected the other to have begged for pain to stop by now, but instead the federation officer simply glared back at him in silence. Walking to the table behind him that held an array of weapons, he reached for another before turning back to Spock. The long metal bat like weapon had pointed ends sticking out at the tip.

Brown eyes swept over it and Spock shifted slightly, willingly impassiveness to remain on his expression. "I must admit," Mihk Tsail spoke up, tapping the rod against his palm, "I expected you to break. You are surprisingly strong. But let's see how much you got left inside of you."

He gripped the handle as he walked around to stand behind his captive, raising it up before he swung it down hard. Spikes cut into skin as it collided against him only to be violently tugged back, tearing at the Vulcan's flesh. Spock gasped shakily as pain erupted like fire across his back. He struggled to reel it in, claim control over the pain before the weapon was swung once more stealing the breath from his lungs. Again it would hit and again it tore at his flesh. The uniform he wore provided little protection with each and every strike against him. The Vulcan's hands were shaking, but soon fingers curled and that too was controlled with a careful breath in.

Tsail pulled the weapon back, watching the other jolt but still, not a so much as a whimper left him. He made his way around, standing before the other as he reached down and took a hold of his jaw. Spock's brown eyes fluttered, unable to remain open before he was releases roughly. "Take him to a cell. Lock him up."

Two men moved to Spock's side and untied the rope around his wrists and neck. With nothing to hold him up anymore, Spock listed, slumping to the ground. "Get up." The Sabin men hissed and grabbed under his arms, pulling him to his feet. Spock inhaled sharply, pain flashing within him before taking a moment to compartmentalize the ache, enough so he could stand. He would not allow himself to be dragged like some animal.

The Sabin's pace, however, was quick and their handle on him was harsh. Try as he might, he could not keep up and the vulcan stumbled between them. He was pulled and shoved down a short hall towards a heavy metal door. It was forced open and before the vulcan was shoved inside, his arms were rebound behind his back. The door slammed shut sooner than he crashed to the floor, shrouding him in absolute darkness.

Spock laid on his front for a moment, taking the few seconds he had to breath, before he shifted to remove pressure from his still wounded side. He inhaled, only to wince for pain blossomed. A broken rib, several perhaps, he could hardly tell. Spock shifted, unable to ease the pain in his body as eyes slowly began to adjust to the lack of light. Another shallow breath and Spock closed his eyes trying to register the pain without falling victim to it. Trying still to ground himself and keep himself collected. It was proving to be difficult.

Even in the silence and the darkness, a percentage chance of survival trickled in his mind. The number was uncomfortably low, though the chance of extraction was far worse, for his crew already thought him to be dead. The odds were he would die here. No, he was certain of it. However, there was one more thing he was certain of and that was his silence. He would not speak, not give up any information that would break down the Federation. That could put the Enterprise and her crew in danger. That would risk the life of his captain. Jim must remain safe, must remain away. 

Spock drew in another breath as he closed his eyes. He should try to find the extent of room he had, see if there was any chance of escape. He was tired. So tired. He would rest for a few minutes. His body slowly gave in as darkness welcomed him. He would rest…


	8. We were one in the same

Water was thrown on his frame, jolting the vulcan back into consciousness. His eyes flew open as arms grabbed at him, pulling him up onto his feet with no regard to prior injuries. Pain flared up but Spock forced down any complaints. He would not be seen as weak.

The Sabins did not wait for him to try and stand; they pulled him, dragging him down the hall and back to the room he was the night before. Spock stumbled behind them, unable to get a proper footing on the ground.

He did not know how long it had been since his last interrogation yet green blood, now dried, still coated the ground. His eyes flickered towards the table, cluttered with archaic weapons before Tsail sauntered into his line of sight.

He watched as the vulcan was placed back in the stress hold, ropes tight against his arms and around his neck, only then did he move to stand before the kneeling officer, golden eyes smug. "Well vulcan, have you decided if you are going to make this easier on yourself today?"

Spock closed his eyes and drew in a breath, rebuilding his control, forcing down any need to express himself .

"Let's start easy. What is your name?" The Sabin leader waited yet the Starfleet officer remained silent. "Tell me your name." Was asked again with no response. Annoyance flickered across Sabin features and a step closer was taken. He knelt before Spock and pulled out a blade from his pocket, playing with it dramatically. "Vulcan. I'm going to give you one more chance. The pain you will endure today will be far worse than last night if you continue to disobey me." A pause as golden eyes watched the other, "However, I am a generous man. Tell me your name and I will give you a hypo for the pain."

Spock drew in another breath and leveled a look to the other. He simply shook his head. "I will not speak. You will learn nothing from me. You might as well dispose of me."

Tsail gritted his teeth before reaching up and grabbing a fist full of raven hair. "No. You will speak," was hissed as nails clawed against the Vulcan's scalp. "You will tell me what I need to know."

"I will not. These will be the last words I speak." As promised, Spock locked his jaw and silence was given. He would give nothing away, not even an name.

Tsail gritted his teeth as rage flashed through his gold eyes. He gripped raven hair tightly in his fist and rose to his feet. Moving to stand behind the Vulcan and with a hard jerk, he arched Spock's neck back painfully. The blade pressed against exposed throat and for a moment, Spock exhaled, closing his eyes as he calmed himself, preparing for death.

A moment passed before the blade left his throat and in less than a swift motion later, the knife sliced his hair. Tsail grabbed another handful and continued to slice away at raven black hair, tossing strands onto the ground. Spock knew this was a demeaning act, one meant to humiliate him, however, he took a moment to rejoice in the fact his life was not taken. 

In death, there was no way back to the ship, back to Jim. 

It took a breath longer to remember, he was dead to his crew and the odds of rescue were nonexistent. Jim thought him dead. He would not see Jim again. He could not trick himself into believing he would. 

Brown eyes closed and Spock longed for the captain, ignoring the feeling of the blade slicing away at his hair, instead losing himself to the memories of Jim's pool blue eyes, his touch, his voice, allowing for a moment of distraction. 

His head was released with a rough shove as the Sabin leader walked around him, looking down at the choppily shaved head. Leaning down eyes locked with brown. "Answer me Vulcan. Your name."

No word was uttered and Tsail near snarled in anger. His hand rose up, dagger still clenched tightly in his fist before slashing at Spock's face, blade cutting into his cheek leaving a jagged gash to the bridge of his nose. "So be it! Be difficult Vulcan! You will see it will only bring you pain! I will enjoy tormenting you!"

Spock inhaled sharply as he forced him to swallow down the suffering, silently preparing himself for whatever it was that would come.


	9. Running like moths to the flame

"You are not seriously going to defy orders are you? Jim, we were ordered to leave Sabin orbit. We cannot stay here." McCoy spoke up, not caring that Jim had ordered him to stop talking just a moment ago. They were standing in Jim's quarters, a good thing as neither captain nor doctor cared much to keep their voices down. "He's dead Jim. You saw it, I saw it. He was shot in the heart. He's gone."

"I refuse to believe that." Kirk was defiant, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. There was anger written across his face, anger and pain. "I refuse to accept that. They sent us in there even if we had no information, they sent us into a trap and I intend to get him out." 

"Just because you refuse to believe it does not make it true. He's dead Jim. If the shot did not kill him, the blood loss did." McCoy pushed, hands resting on the table before the blond captain.

"Stop saying that! He's not dead. He can't be dead. I'm not leaving until I get a team down there," Kirk snapped, as he rose to his feet, glaring at the doctor. "We left him down there and I will get him back. I will not leave him. " 

"That is going against direct orders Jim! We cannot stay. We need to leave orbit." The doctor yelled and only enticed the blond to yell right back. 

"No! Just because you gave up on him doesn't mean I will!"

For a moment, McCoy was silent. He stood up straight and crossed his arms, and inhaled deeply through his nose. Then, fight returning, he jabbed a finger at his friend, "don't think for a second you are the only one hurting here. He was my friend too." He exhaled sharply and looked away, "Just because we fought constantly does not mean I wanted to lose him and certainly not like that. All of us felt this, all of us saw him fall. Leaving him behind tore us all apart, not just you. It kills me to tell you to leave orbit. It kills me to think what they did to his body. It kills me to think he is actually dead. I don't want to believe it but I don't have a choice. The fact of the problem is, he could not have survived that and if he did, and this is a huge if; if he did, they would have killed him the moment they found him. We cannot risk endangering more lives to retrieve a body. We cannot. We were ordered to leave, denying that order can have you suspended, court martial or have you lose your ship. "

"I am not lea-" Jim started but McCoy rose his voice. 

"You are the captain. You were put there to make the hard choice even if you hate it. You need to think of your crew Jim. All of your crew, not just Spock. It's been three days, Jim. Three days. If he was alive, dontcha think they would have commed us by now and tried to bargain him to us. Information or weapons for him. He is dead. You need to face those facts. Spock is dead."

Jim fell silent hands raking through his hair. He closed his eyes tightly trying to make sense of this. Spock couldn't be dead. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. He lowered himself back into his seat, hands curled into golden strands." I can't leave him there..." he said, softer now. "I can't... Just fly away knowing I'm leaving him there."

"I'm sorry Jim... I really am. But Spock would not want you to risk any lives for him." McCoy's voice softened too, a hand moving to ret against Jim's shoulder. 

"He told me he loved me." Jim whispered. "Only a couple of days before we made our way down... He told me he loved me."

McCoy fell silent, eyes locked on Jim's expression. "What?"

Jim nodded, closing his eyes tightly. "I... I told him I loved him too and I do... So much. I never loved anyone like I love him. Now it's all gone. He's gone. Just like that. I'm never going to look at him again. I'm never going to feel him standing beside me again. I'm never going to hear him say those words again. I don't even get to give him a funeral. I don't get to say goodbye. He's gone and... And I just have to leave him." Jim shook his head, drawing in a heavy breath. “I didn't get to say goodbye..."

McCoy felt his shoulders slump slightly, looking down at his friend. He was not good at these things... Comforting those who lost friends, family, loved ones. It was the part he hated the most of being a doctor. “I'm sorry... I'm so sorry Jim."

Kirk scrubbed his face before getting to his feet. “Yeah... So am I." But McCoy was right, as much as he hated it, McCoy was right. He was captain, and he had orders. Leave Sabin orbit and as much as he wanted to personally fly down there, he couldn't. "Let's go. Before I change my mind." Kirk did not wait for McCoy. He walked out of his quarters and began to the long walk to the bridge. Leave Sabin orbit. They could not remain.

Jim knew he would forever hate himself for this. Spock forgive him...


	10. You'd hang on every word I'd say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for keeping along with me and reading every update! I value all of your comments and I'm so happy you all enjoy the story so far. I try not to give any spoilers, but I did want to give a heads up for this up coming chapter. I've had specific archive warnings up since chapter one and from now they will really be coming into effect. Just a heads up for more Hurt!Spock and I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Pain. It was all he felt for days. Never in his existence had he felt so much physical torment. It never ended, hour after hour after hour the Sabins continued to abuse his body. Spock had passed out several times over the course of these days, but always awoke to find himself still tied up, still bleeding, still under Tsail's watchful gaze.

Despite it all he still had not uttered a single word. He held his tongue, held back every groan of pain, not wanting to give them anything, not even that. His lack of cooperation only rewarded him with another day of abuse and Spock could feel his body giving in. His mind remained strong, but he knew he could not handle much more of this.

The room was the same cold damp cell one it had been for four days now, or maybe it was five. Spock couldn't tell anymore. There was no end to the torment, no end to the days, the hours that dragged on had melded together. Though it wasn't important now, not anymore. He was still here, no rescue was coming. It was better this way, the crew was safe, Jim was safe. It just needed to end.

Spock was bound with his arms were above his head tied to a rope and he dangled, inches from the floor. Tsail hoped the position would assist in making the Vulcan crack but they hardly succeeded. Spock hadn't so much as spoken his name. Tsail had lost his patience again and had left the Vulcan to his men. When he finally had returned, Spock was battered and bleeding, some more bones broken, his skin damaged and torn from their abuse, head hanging slightly as he struggled to remain conscious. "Wake him up," ordered the leader as he stood before Spock with some old tech in his hand.

Cold water was thrown on Spock and he jolted back to the reality and he gasped for air, his body shivering due to the cold. "Welcome back Vulcan." Said the golden eyed man as he looked down at vulcan. "There is something I want you to listen to." 

Spock closed his eyes as he heaved a breath, the position making it difficult to fully fill his lungs but Tsail tapped his cheek roughly with his gun. "Eyes on me." Spock looked at him too drained to fight that order, not wanting another strike at the disobedience. The man before him scrolled through his tablet. "S'chn T'gai Spock. Half human, half Vulcan. Born 26 March 2230, Shi'Kahr, Vulcan. Son of Sarek, current Ambassador to Earth and the late Amanda Grayson. Member of Starfleet, rank: Commander, Science Officer, First Officer. Posting: USS Enterprise under Captain James T. Kirk." Tsail lowered the device and Spock closed his eyes once again as his file was read out to him.

"I know who you are now, I know everything about you. I know you were present when Vulcan was destroyed, when your mother died, I know what school you went to as a child. I know you were accepted into the Science Academy on Vulcan but you turned it down for Starfleet. I even know the marks you received for each class as a child. The only thing I don't know are the coordinates to the nearest Starfleet base and the security detail posted. You will tell them to me, or I will execute you."

Spock inhaled deeply but kept his silence. He had not expected Tsail to provide such in depth information about him and his life, but it hardly mattered. He would not speak. He would not speak and if Tsail killed him, then so be it.

Tsail broke the distance between them and pressed his gun against Spock's head, his finger on the trigger. He had had enough with the damn Vulcan, it was a waste keeping him alive. Spock simply closed his eyes, willing for Tsail to just end it all now, wanting the pain to finally stop. Tsail lowered his gun once more after a breath and slipped it into its holster. The sabin leader reached over and gripped Spock's neck and forced him closer, his lips centimeters from Spock's ear. 

"I will tear you apart. Not just your body but your mind as well you fucking half breed." 

Tsail stood before him, watching him, growing tired of the Vulcan's defiance. Honestly, he expected the federation officer to break at this point. "Spock... Tell me... Where does this dedication to your federation come from?" He did not expect an answer, after all the cursed Vulcan still has yet to utter a single word. "Are you aware your ship left orbit? They left you behind. They do not care about you."

Spock inhaled deeply, unevenly. His gaze on the ground and all he could do was focus on breathing. The Enterprise had left. The Enterprise- Jim- was gone. There was no help coming, no rescue. He had known it would come to this, had expected to be left behind. As far as his crew knew, he was dead, they had seen him fall. It was illogical to hope they could come for him. 

Then why did he hurt knowing they were gone?

Tsail was before him again, eyeing him. “You are officially useless to me. You gave me nothing. You worthless half-breed." With the word came a swift jab to Spock's rib and the Vulcan held back his grunt. Another cycled breath kept his silence. Tsail, as annoyed and angry as he was, found himself impressed at the Vulcan's silence. Even a sabin would have broken long ago.

Golden eyes scanned the other before him, hanging in silence, body littered with a colorful array of bruises, both dry and wet blood spread across his frame, his clothes in tatters. He inhaled deeply before ordering the Vulcan to be lowered and Spock's feet touched ground. His ropes were cut and he would have slumped to the ground but Tsail grabbed him under the arm and forced him forward, against the table of archaic tools. Spock provided no fight as he was forced face first against the flat surface, days of abuse and blood loss, of lack of any kind of food or water had made him weak. Tsail hand gripped the back of his head, holding him against the table. "I think I'm going to kill you now. You have done nothing but waste my time. Before I do... I'll offer you one more chance. Give me some kind of information and I'll kill you quickly and painlessly. Don't and well, I'll make you hurt again before I end you."

The vulcan inhaled a labored breath as brown eyes closed, keeping his silence. He did not speak for his life, he would not for his death.

Tsail clicked his tongue before he stood up, hand still against Spock's head. “I can't say I expected anything different." Another nod towards one of his men saw another rope wrapping around Spock's neck and latching to the table, keeping him still as his arms were forced behind his back, wrists bound together. “You are quite stubborn Spock. I wonder is that from your Vulcan father or your human bitch of a mother?"

Spock jolted then, trying to pull back from the table, teeth gritting as he glared angrily at Tsail. The fight in him flared up in defense for his mother but he hardly had the energy to keep it up. Tsail laughed, “oh? What is this? Did I light a spark? How interesting." He gripped another blade before using it to cut away the rags of uniform that remained on the Vulcan. “Tell me, Spock, was your mother beautiful? Was she a good fuck?"

Again Spock reacted, tugging at the rope that only tightened around his neck. He bared his teeth as he tried to turn his head enough to glare back at the laughing Sabin. “Had I known bringing up that human bitch would have brought such fire to you, I would have mentioned her before." Of course it did not matter he'd only just found out about her. He dropped the knife on the table as his hand pressed firm against Spock's lower back. "It's a shame she died, I would have preferred to do this to her and had you watch."

There was no other warning. No moment to prepare, to relax or to move away into his mind. The sabin had pressed himself into Spock from behind roughly without care or consideration, tearing his way into Spock's body. Agony flared up within the Vulcan so much so he could hardly bare it. His body tensed, eyes widening as he bit down hard to will himself not to cry out but it was impossible. There was so much pain. The man grunted as he forced himself into Spock, pushing in as deep as he was able. 

The Vulcan was so tight but he refused to allow a moment for pause. Pulling back, only to thrust back inside just as hard, sent the vulcan shaking and gasping, yet he wasn't being vocal enough. He wanted the vulcan to cry, to scream, to beg for this to stop, to be far more vulcan than he had these few days. He wouldn't cease until the other complied. He started to pound into Spock, colliding against his body, tearing at him and the vulcan could do little but wither in agony, pulling at the restraints that held him down. 

Spock gritted his teeth. It was too much. Too much pain and humiliation. He could not handle this. His body shook in response as the restraints cut into his skin, as the man from behind grabbed a hold of the collar and pulled his head back into a painful angle, it too digging into skin. Then Tsail's chest was against his back, forcing him down seconds before he bit into the crook of Spock's neck as hard as he could. 

Spock jolted in pain again, gasping out as teeth broke skin and Tsail latched down. He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the pain, wanting to crawl back into his mind, to find comfort in a memory with Jim, but he was unable. The pain did not stop, the thrusting only increased, tearing him in what felt like two. There was other men around, other sabins who watched with hungry eyes, wanting their share of the vulcan that was finally beginning to react to the torment.

Hips behind him turned brutal, and Spock withered, a sound escaping him, ashamed as he was unable to take anymore, "s-stop!" He gasped only for the clamped jaw on his shoulder to tightened in its hold, sending another crashing wave of pain. Never had he been in so much pain, never had something hurt so much. 

Tsail's hips became uneven, bucking near hear wildly against him until he grunted and Spock felt him releasing into him. The vulcan shook, eyes half lidded as the other thrusted in several more times before pulling himself out and releasing his hold on Spock's shoulder. Spock laid on the table, legs trembling, his whole withering in pain. As movement from before him arose, Spock looked up slowly to find some of the sabin men breaking their stance and walking to him, one going behind and the other resting a hand on Spock's head and the vulcan knew instantly this was far from over.


	11. But now they only ricochet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with me and reading :) I enjoy all your comments and support and I really hope you like this chapter! Enjoy all the hurtSpock!

He laid motionless over the table, legs shaking, body withering. His body was in so much pain. He was bizarrely grateful he was tied down, for he would not have been able to hold himself up if he were not and knew he would have slumped to the floor. Tsail rested against the wall beside him, a grin in his face as several of his men sated themselves with Spock's flesh. The Vulcan's silence had finally cracked, he had begged for them to stop and the shame of doing so was evident on his face. 

Tsail placed a hand flat beside Spock's head once the last sabin in the room was finished with the Vulcan and the wounded officer recoiled an inch. He leaned close, lips near a pointed ear, "I think I'll let you live and make you my new toy. Are you ready to tell me those coordinates now? If you tell me, I'll untie you, I'll take you to a cell and I won't use you again, I'll even give you painkillers for good measure. Refuse and you will be used again, this time, by my whole army."

Spock's eyes closed, eyebrows knitting together. The thought of going through that again sent a jolt of anxiety through his body, but he knew. He knew he could not give up any information on the federation, even if he was left behind. Spock drew in a labored breath before shaking his head. No... He would not speak. 

Tsail looked down at him with a flicker of annoyance. "No? Are you sure you want to remain silent? I have a lot of men that need release, all willing to take out their frustrations on a federation officer."

Spock released a heavy breath, he could feel his body shaking at the thought of enduring this all over again. His gaze swept over the men standing several feet from him, some of them eager to continue where they left off. Another deep inhale though this time, his mind went to Jim, thought what his surrender would do to his captain. If he spoke, the Enterprise would come to the defense and Jim could fall. Spock grounded himself, rebellion strengthening his resolve. He should his head with more vigor. He would not give up the federation, he would not give up Jim.

Tsail gritted his teeth, grabbing his knife and cut the rope that held the Vulcan to the table. Spock had no time to shift before he was roughly grabbed and forced out of the room and down the hall. He struggled to gain his footing however Tsail pulled him along, down a hall and through a door. A burst of light momentarily blinded the Vulcan, leaving him disoriented.

Before he could come to his senses he was thrown against another surface, a hand pressing against the back of his neck, holding him down. Brown eyes frantically searched the space around him. He was outside, not too far from where the Enterprise crew had landed, he could even see the remains of their ship, just several hundred yards out. How he wished he could escape on it. Destruction was evident, buildings and ships were destroyed, dead sabin government soldiers piled up in a corner and Sabin extremists scattered about, eyes falling on the Vulcan officer, interest peaked.

Tsail's voice rung out as he called for attention. "You men have fought bravely, we have overthrown those that wished to see us oppress by joining with the Federation! We have here one of the officers, he is your reward."

Spock felt terror rising within him. He pulled at the grip that held him down but already he felt foreign hands grabbing his waist. His eyes flickered to Tsail but the other was walking away, smirk evident on his features as he tossed one final glance to Spock. The Vulcan looked over his shoulder, a Sabin he had not seen before was already removing himself from his pants and pushing himself against him as he forced trembling legs apart. Spock closed his eyes inwardly trying to close off his mind, to block away the pain before it came. It would be impossible, since the moment he was shot, Spock had been unsuccessful in managing to reach the sanctuary that was his mind. Pain came as the Sabin behind roughly entered him and the Vulcan jolted only to be forced back down on the surface under him. He tried to claw into his mind, to hide away from the pain and degradation, inwardly begging to focus on anything but his reality.

\---

The first several days there was nothing, simply empty, hollow sleep. Yet as the days drew on by whenever sleep did finally come to the captain it was twisted up with pain, flashes of light and undistinguishable sound. A random jumble of thoughts moving so quickly and hardly lingering on anything but perhaps a few thoughts or emotion leaving Jim utterly disoriented. Nothing made sense, nothing was understandable. It was impossible to comprehend what was happening and the only indication of anything in the confusion that was his sleep was a constant underlining layer of pain. It wasn't the first night it happened, not even the fourth but there was a moment where in all the chaos was a voice, hard to hear and just as hard to make sense of it, except one word that filled the captain's brain and it seemed to echo within his sleep induced mind. 

_Jim._

"We need to go back."

Silence on bridge followed those words as eyes turned to the captain's chair. The hush dragged on and yet Kirk did not speak against his sudden verbal thought. The quizzical look in his eye remained as if he was surprised at himself for the sudden outburst. Go backwards. Back to Sabin. Back to Spock. 

"Sir?" Questioned Sulu from the pilot's seat after a minute or perhaps two of dragged out silence.

Kirk nodded his head, drawing in a deep breath as determination claimed him. "We need to go back to Sabin. Turn us around." Yes. They needed to go back. Something was drawing him back, something from the depth of his core was demanding he turned around. It had been over a week since Spock had fallen, several days since they left Sabin behind. It was eating him alive. How could he have left Spock there, dead or not?

"... But our orders sir." Sulu argued, however he was seconds with turning them around if the captain insisted. 

"New orders. Turn around, Chekov, plot us a course back to sabin." He was certain. He needed to go back, he needed to get back to Spock. He was alive, he must be, how else could he explain the vividly chaotic dreams?

Chekov tossed a glance back to Sulu before doing as ordered, a plot back was made. "Yes Keptin."

"Sir," someone began but Kirk silenced them with a wave of his hand. "We are returning to Sabin."


	12. We were falling away

"What'd ya mean we are returning to Sabin!" McCoy yelled. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. Kirk had officially lost his mind. "Jim, what the hell are you thinking?"

Kirk sighed and shook his head, hand running through golden strands, fatigue evident on his features. "You don't understand Bones--."

"Well then, _please_ , enlighten me. You are disobeying orders and going back into a hot zone. You are putting all of our lives in danger. All of your crew's life in danger."

Jim looked away, inhaling sharply though his nose. "I don't know how to explain it. I just... I feel he's alive." How could he make anyone understand what he was feeling inside his core? This feeling, no, this burning sensation that he felt within him. 

McCoy scoffed, throwing his arms into the air, "oh great, that is just perfect. You _feel_ it? You feel Spock, what, calling to you? He's dead Jim, you need to accept that fact. Spock is dead."

Kirk's frowned, deeply, irritation rising at the sarcasm. "Yes Bones, I feel something pulling at me, at my very being. Sometimes it's just a tug but... But sometimes, a growing number of times, it's clawing at me, dragging me back. My gut tells me he's alive." His gut and…and something more, yet what it was, he hardly knew.

"No. No, it's not that kind of feeling. That's called guilt Jim. Survivor's guilt." McCoy snapped, "you don't know that he is alive, not for fact. We saw him fall, we saw him get shot. Kid, listen to me, you are making a mistake. He is dead."

"Damn it Bones, I disagree with you! I think, no, I know he's alive!" Jim argued back but the other scoffed.

"Then what are you going to do? Tell me Jim, what are you going to do when you get back to Sabin? Beam down, guns blazing? Pilot another shuttle and pray to God they don't shoot it down like they did before?"

Jim inhaled and sighed, heavily. "I will think of something."

"Ya better Jim. You better think real hard. Not only are you risking your life on a gut feeling, you are risking your ship and your crew." Yet McCoy drew in a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, falling silent for a moment as he took in a slow deep breath to calm himself. He scrubbed his face with his hands, shaking his head before looking across to the other, his captain and his friend. 

"Bones, we need to try. I need to know." Jim spoke, almost pleading for the other's support. "I know he's alive."

McCoy felt the weight of the past week on his shoulders, "Jim…Look, I don't believe it. I know he is dead." He huffed a sigh, arms crossing against his chest as he looked away. Yet he spoke again, voice lowering, "To be honest...what scares me more than finding his body, is finding him alive. If he's alive, which he's not but if he is…we left him there, to their mercy. Alone."

Jim was silent as his blue eyes regarded the other. McCoy was silent, finally taking a seat as if all his strength had left him in that confession. "If he is alive... How can I forgive myself for leaving him behind? I saw him shot, I saw the blood, I saw him fall. I labeled him dead. I made the choice to not go back."

"We all left him." Jim corrected.

"I'm his doctor, his friend. I stopped you from going back, I sedated you Jim." McCoy ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head, feeling the weight of the possibility. "What if he is alive? It's been over a week. If he's alive, then they would have been interrogating him. God." He closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to his eyelids. _No. No._ It was easier to believe that Spock was dead. Spock was shot. In the heart no less. He saw the blood, he's a doctor for Christ's sake. He knows what arterial blood looks like. Spock is dead. He's dead. He's gotta be dead. Please God just let him be dead.

"He's Spock. He wouldn't talk." Jim revealed, eyes on his friend as a torn look passed his expression.

"Then they did a number on him, Jim. If Spock is alive, which he isn't, but if he is alive, and they interrogated him, then they put him through hell. That or he's dead now because of his silence because we both know Spock wouldn't talk. He wouldn't tell them a thing." McCoy slumped in his chair, shaking his head. "What are we going to do?"

Jim watched him, silently, trying his hardest not to imagine what the vulcan was forced to endure. "We go incognito. We need to get him out. We cannot leave him. "

"Jim, he was left in the middle of a civil war, in the middle of an actual fire fight. In the exact center of it all. Going in stealth won't just be hard. It'll be damn near impossible."

"I need to try Bones. I need to try." Jim said with certainty. "He is alive. I know it. I need to get him out."

"Well…I can't let you go alone then. God I hate you both," sighed the doctor as he shook his head. 

Jim nodded, eyes flickering towards the window, watching the flashes of lights passing by at warp speed. _I'm coming Spock. Hold on just a little bit longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and thank you so much for your comments. :3 I love them.


	13. You left me with a bittersweet taste

The silence was deafening, thunderous in his ears so much so he was certain even if a sound was made it would be swallowed up by the lack of reverberation. It was illogical. Silence should not be so strident and yet he felt as if he was lost to absolute emptiness. It sent him spiraling downwards into what felt like insanity. How long had it been? How many hours, how many days? He was afraid to focus on the time, afraid to realize just how long he had felt this anguish within him, tearing him apart. It had been so long, he knew it had, and yet the pain was constant, revolving, consuming, warping him into a shape he no longer recognized. 

He inhaled unseen even if he was never alone. A fabrication of existence that was made in self preservation. Until a gentle hand pressed against his face, carefully angling him upwards in an attempt to bring his gaze up, to settle on perfect blue eyes. _Jim._ It was Jim. How long had Jim been there? "Spock? Can you hear me?" Full lips tilted downwards at the corners as the other looked at his features, remorse and sorrow in those ethereal azure eyes. "Spock. Spock I am so sorry."

Jim leaned in close, forehead pressing against his, another hand moving to wrap around him, encasing him, holding him, protecting him. Jim was there for him. "I am so sorry Spock. I'm here. I'm here. It will be alright." The fingers curled against him, pulling him close, feeling their bodies against one another. "I'm here now. I'm here." _Remorse_. He could feel it in their connection. Jim hurt with him, understood his pain, his sorrow. 

Spock wanted to reach out, to wrap his arms around Jim, to pull him close and cling him to him but even in this moment he needed to remain strong. He was Vulcan. He had remained strong in the face of adversity, he had in the moment of pure agony, he could now, in the aftermath. With Jim here at his side he managed not to fall victim to the overwhelming emptiness within him.

Jim pulled back enough, enough to look into his eyes, fingers caressing his face as he searched those brown orbs. "I'm sorry." He did not know what more he could say. What did one say in a moment like this? Sorry just didn't cut it.

"The fault is not yours Jim." Came the Vulcan's voice, soft and wounded. 

The blond captain offered a small breath, no. Perhaps not. He hadn't known then, but he knew now. Knew how much the Vulcan hurt in that moment and how much he must have suffered in silence under the mask of indifference. “I would liked to have met her."

"She would have enjoyed you very much."

"What was her name?" Jim wondered as he looked over to his first officer, hands slowly leaving his face and running down his sides. He remembered the look of Spock's face when he and the rest of the Vulcans had beamed on to the teleporter pad. The first flicker of emotion in those normally solid brown eyes. Disbelief, disbelief as his hand had reached out to only to find air. Disbelief that turned to anguish for only a breath before becoming steel once more. 

"Amanda. My mother's name was Amanda."

Brown eyes opened to find cold darkness all around him. Darkness and silence. He inhaled slowly, struggling to get a full breath in. Where was he? What happened? Was he not with Jim? "Jim?" He called out, hopeful but only stillness was his response. His eyes closed and he felt a wave of hurt hitting his very soul. _A dream. _He must have been dreaming. Dreaming of the day Vulcan was obliterated, the day his mother fell. Dreaming of Jim but Jim was not here. Spock opened his eyes again, even if it was unnecessary. There was no light at all, nothing to gauge where he was, however he was nearly certain this was the very same room he was first placed in, all those days ago.__

____

Spock shifted only to cease the movement as pain flared across his body leaving him in favor of remaining still on the cold stone floor for a moment. He tried to register the pain, the lift his mind over and control it but it was proving to be increasingly difficult. Resting his cheek on the cold floor gave him a small bit of reprieve as the chill comforted his sore frame. What had happened before he found himself laying here on the ground?

____

The vulcan shifted once more discovering the remainder of his uniform had been removed and it was in that instant that all of what had happened came crashing back down on him. Spock jolted as if shocked and his eyes flew open again. They had _used_ him. Used him over and over and over again. They had tore into his body repeatedly without care until he blacked out from the pain, only to wake up and find himself in the arms of another renegade. Hands shifted to his head, no longer tied down but arms near locked from the days spent in stress holds. Spock curled into a ball, fingers gripping his shaved head as he willed himself not to break, not to fall apart, not here, not now. Yet, he could not stop the downward spiral that attacked his resolve.

____

The vulcan was shaking, not from the cold but of the pain; the pain that had consumed his body, that had originated from unknown means until that moment of realization and how he wished he could have remained ignorant to the methods of torture he endured. His frame was slick and he could feel dirt clinging to the sticky residue that coated him. Nails dug into his scalp as a wave of nausea flooded his senses and Spock heaved, even if there was nothing in his stomach to purge. The comprehension of what was on him, of just how many had sated themselves with him, of the feel of his own blood and stars knew what else on his legs and back made him sick. Spock heaved again, arms wrapping around his trembling frame trying to provide any bit of comfort that he could but there was nothing that could wipe away the desolation that ravaged him.

____

He could not endure it anymore, the mere thought of Tsail or any other sabins entering his cell sent a wave of panic within him. Spock curled up as tightly as his battered frame would allow him and he abandoned the effort of trying to remain strong, of trying to keep himself above the pain. There was nothing left, there was no reason to remain in control. He was alone and his crew would never come back for him. Spock felt a shift within his core and the walls that separated his emotion and logic shattered. The federation officer sobbed, burying his head into his arms, hiding his face from the darkness that glared at him. "Someone! Someone please! Get me out of here!" 

____

Yet it was only silence that responded to him. A silence so deafening, so thunderous that Spock was almost certain that if a sound was made it would be swallowed up by the lack of noise in his cell. It was an illogical thought, a completely and utterly illogical thought but how could silence be so strident? He began to feel as if he was losing himself to the absolute emptiness that was his cell. It sent him spiraling downwards into what felt like insanity. He needed to escape, he needed to get out! He needed someone, anyone to realize he was there, that he was still alive after all this time! "Someone please help me!"

____

How long had it been? How many days, how many weeks? Spock was afraid to focus on the time, afraid to discover just how long he had been here, forgotten by his own crew. The anguish within him was growing and beginning to tear him apart. It had been so long, he knew it had and they would never come for him. This was his reality, this never ending pain. A pain that was constant, revolving, consuming, warping him into a shape he no longer recognized. The fabrication of existence that he had made in self preservation to convince himself that he was strong enough and that he could outlive the torment had shattered. "Please…please…" He begged into the darkness, his voice dying away as no one heard his cries.

He was not strong enough. 

He could not outlive what Tsail planned for him.

_Spock just wanted to die._


	14. But when I send my heart your way...

"Fifty-four thousand four hundred thirty. Fifty-four thousand four hundred thirty-one. Fifty-four thousand four hundred thirty-two. Fifty-four thousand four hundred thirty-three. Fifty-four thousand four hundred forty-five. Fifty-four thousand four hundred forty-six. Fifty-four thousand four hundred seventy-three. Fifty-four thousand… Fifty…Fifty-four…No. No, it was forty…fif…forty… forty-five thousand four hundred seventy-one...wait… it- it was forty-four thousand five hundred seventeen... That was it. Forty-four thousand five hundred eighteen. Forty-four thousand five hundred nineteen. Forty-four thousand five hundred twenty..." 

Spock's voice was hardly auditable as he counted the seconds that passed while sitting in the dark room. He was unsure how many times he had messed up his count, even though it did not truly matter. It was the only thing he could do to prove himself awake and alive. Not that that mattered either. He was alone here, forgotten with no other way to pass the time. He supposed he preferred it that way. The sabins had left him alone, locked away in the darkness of his cell. 

The darkness, however was troubling him. After his initial break down, he had laid curled up on the ground for an uncertain amount of time. It could have been minutes, hours or even days, he truly did not know. Yet after some time, there was a moment of clarity and he managed to force himself onto his feet somehow without toppling over. He needed to do something. Needed to keep himself occupied and sobbing on the ground would not help his mind. Staggering with arms out stretched, Spock carefully shuffled forward until he found a wall. Hands ran across its surface as he carefully stepped to the right. He was searching for something, something distinguishable to mark the beginning of his search. His fingers brushed the corner of the wall and then he was able to began to process of counting just how many steps it took to reach the next. His shuffling steps were small, unable to take larger ones due to an injury on the back of his calf. It felt deep and was skin hanging, however the darkness denied him the right to inspect his injuries and carry on he did. 

Nine steps before another curve greeted him. Then, seven more. A corner. Nine steps. One more corner. Another seven. Corner. He blinked, hands reaching back searching the walls once more. He did not feel a crease for the door. How was that possible? He knew there was one, he was put in here, after all. There must be a door. He searched again. Nine. Corner. Seven. Corner. Nine. Corner. Seven. No door. Panic filled him again. No door, equaled no escape. He couldn't get out. Spock gasped for air, unable to settle the building of emotions. He knew there was no chance of escape yet a small flicker of hope had blossomed at the simple possibility of being on his feet but now it wilted at the realization of his predicament. "Let me out! Let me out of here!" Spock pleaded hands hitting the walls of his cell. "Let me out!"

The darkness had the ability could twist the mind and ensnare the senses. It could turn a mind against itself, making figures out of nothing, amplify the smallest of sounds to make it seem as if they were larger than any beast. The blackness around him was incriminating. There was no light, not even the faintest of glows. Nothing. Simply emptiness. Just black. Now, locked away in the isolation without so much of a fantasy of being able to free himself, Spock slumped to the floor once more. He pulled in on himself the best his injuries would allow, arms wrapped around his frame in an attempt to provide some sort of comfort, but none came. 

The vulcan was shaking, fingers curling into his skin as he shifted slowly laying himself on the ground once more. It was cold, so unforgiving but it helped bring his mind into focus. It was a struggle to push back the emotions, the growing trepidation that consumed him. He would die here. In this forsaken hole, alone, forgotten. Never again would he step foot on the Enterprise. Never again would he look into the blue eyes of his captain. Never would he be able to hold and be held by his Jim. 

Once again Spock closed his eyes, pressing his hands against his eyelids. He inhaled sharply, shaking, trying to control himself when suddenly his eyes flew open. _There._ Just several feet from him, movement. Spock pulled away, forcing himself off the ground, ignoring the angry hurt of his body. "Who's there?" He demanded, back pressed against the wall, his body again reminding him of the injuries forced upon it. 

"Who's there?!" he insisted again, eyes flickering back and forth searching for anything in the endless black. Someone was there. He could feel it. Eyes were watching him, barely making a sound, hidden in darkness. He knew who it was, who it had to be. Tsail was watching him, just out of reach, waiting for Spock to fall asleep so he could use his body once more. 

"No! Stay back! Do not touch me!" He pleaded, pulling away, pressing against the wall. He was shaking again, unable to control himself. The thought of Tsail being just out of arms length, ready to abuse his body sent him spiraling back down into terror once more. "Stay back!" Yet Tsail never neared, remaining in the blackness around him. All around him. Grinning that wicked grin and watching him with his golden eyes.

Spock gripped his head, eyes closing tightly as another wave of desperation hit him. "Let me out of here! Please, just let me go! Someone please, help me! Help me, anyone!" He cried out, nails digging into his scalp as he begged for release. The darkness was pressing down on him, the small size of his prison cell drawing in with every ragged breath he took. Tsail neared closer, hands out stretched but never touching. Spock forced himself into a corner trying to get away, gasping for air as every movement cause pain to explode across his body. He could see figures in the darkness, shapes of more sabins moving just out of reach. They would use him again, they would hurt him again. Cut into his skin, bury themselves into his body, claiming him as their own over and over again. "No! Please! Leave me be!" Why wouldn't they just leave him alone?! Hadn't they done enough to him? "Go away! Leave me alone!"

The vulcan broke down once more, curled up despite the agony his body was in. Spock dug his nails into his head, sobbing as he begged to be left in peace despite the fact that he remained alone in his cell. There was fear, endless amounts of fear growing within him, imagining the sabins and their ruthless leader Tsail were just feet away, ready to torment him all over again. All resolve has shattered, all control over his emotions were gone. Spock had crumbled. "Jim…help me... Come back…please come back…" He cried into the darkness, knowing he would forever remain in his hell and believing that Jim had abandoned him.


	15. It bounces off the walls you've made

The Enterprise was days away from Sabin at warp six. How he wanted to kick drive to warp eight and make it there far quicker, but even he knew it would only add unnecessary strain to the ship. Jim sat at the edge of his seat watching the stars fly by across the main screen. They were moving as fast as they could, but it was not fast enough. They needed to hurry.

Jim regretted leaving Sabin's orbit. They never should have left. Spock was alive, he knew it. He could feel it in his core, the pull back to the planet, back to Spock. He should have followed his gut feeling and headed down far long ago. Something inside of him told him not to leave and he knew it yet he still did.

Even if this shift was spent sitting around on the bridge, Jim was restless. Anxious even. His heart was pounding and his hands were trembling. He had no idea why. This stress was not his own, but the stress he felt was overwhelming. His chest was tight, making it difficult to breathe. He pressed his hand against his chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm this sudden rise. 

Along with the anxiety came a wave of paranoia. Jim shifted, inhaling deeply as eyes flickered about. He rose to his feet and began to pace. What... What was happening to him?

"Captain? Are you alright?" Someone had asked him, Sulu maybe. He couldn't focus. "Captain?" 

Everything was beginning to spin and Jim pressed a hand to his head. He could not focus, he could not see straight he could not breath. What was happening? 

_Jim._

"Captain?" 

_Jim help me!_

"Captain!" 

Jim collapsed to the floor, eyes rolling back as he blacked out from the rise of terror and oppression within. There was chaos. So much chaos yet within the pain and jumble of emotions, he heard the pleading. The demand to be rescued. Spock. Spock was alive. He was coming. Just hold on. Please hold on just a little bit longer. _I'm coming._

"Jim. Jim. Jim, can you hear me?"

Blue eyes flickered, unfocused to the face looking down at him. Jim reached up, one hand resting for against his head as the other rose, pressing fingers against the firm frame of McCoy over him, keeping him at bay. 

"Jim, I need you to focus on me. Can you focus on me? Take in a slow deep breath." 

"Spock..." Jim inhaled heavily, eyes closing as he struggled to settled his spinning mind. "Spock." 

"... No its Leonard," said his friend with a frown. 

Jim closed his eyes firmly and waited for the world to stop revolving. "What... What happened?" He asked when he finally managed to see just one McCoy. 

"Ya passed out kid. Your vitals went haywire and you just dropped. You're in the medbay now. I need you to take it easy." His friend requested, a hand on Jim's shoulder to keep him down.

Jim inhaled, eyes closing as he took in another few breathes. "I passed out?"

McCoy nodded, a tricorder scanning his captain. "Yes. You were on the bridge. Do you remember?"

Jim brushed the device away from his face as he shifted. He was in the medbay? Yes. Yes he remembered. He was fine one minute and then suddenly he wasn't. There was something... A shift within him that overwhelmed him. He couldn't breathe all of the sudden, couldn't think either. "I don't know what happened. I felt... I felt stress that wasn't mine."

The doctor frowned. "What do you mean." Not his? How was that possible?

"What I mean is--," Jim offered a shrug, trying to sit up but Bones kept him down with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Bones, I'm fine now, let me up."

The doctor sighed but he moved his hand. His own devices found nothing wrong with the blond.

"What I mean is that the stress and the anxiety came out if nowhere. There was nothing around me to cause so much stress." _Spock._ His gut feeling told him it was because of Spock. He inhaled slowly, blue eyes finding hazel. "We need to get to Sabin. Spock is alive but I feel he won't be for long."

Bones sighed slowly. Jim was sure all this was because of Spock, because what the other was... Enduring? He pressed a knuckle to his lips, eyes down as he thought. Was it possible? Was it actually possible that Spock was alive and Jim was connected to him? He had no medical explanation for this, unless it had something to do with that damn Vulcan mumbo jumbo.

"Ya'll mind melded before?"

Jim nodded, finally allowed to sit up and rest his back against the wall. "Yeah. We did. Multiple times."

McCoy groaned heavily, shaking his head. He did not want to believe it and yet with every conversation on the possibility of Spock being alive was beginning to cause himself doubt the alternative more and more. "Do you think-" He paused, voice fading. 

Jim watched him, seeing his features shifting almost painfully. "Think what Bones?"

"That ya'll connected. That some... I don't know, Vulcan bond was formed and that you are actually feeling him?"

There was silence but Jim was nodding. He did. What other explanation could it be? When he slept, there was pain, confusion, desperate need. He felt a pull within his soul and now this crippling anxiety. Jim closed his eyes as if the weight of Bones beginning to believe him weighed on his shoulders. He knew it was real but now that someone was beginning to believe him made it even more so. "He's alive Bones. He's alive and they are killing him. We need to save him. We need to get to him. It's been too long and I feel him dying."

McCoy inhaled slowly, hands running across his face. "Okay. Alright. I'm going to believe you." He still had doubt, but maybe at this point it was actually hope that Spock was dead. "If Spock is alive, Jim, then we need to come up with a plan to get in there and get him out. According to Starfleet, there is still a civil war down there and they hate us. We need to find a way to get down there without them finding out. Or Starfleet finding out because we are defying orders right now."

Jim inhaled, giving a nod. Bones was in with him. Good. "I'll figure out a plan. We'll get in and out." Jim was determined. He jumped off of the biobed. "They won't know what'll hit em." They'll regret the day they turned on the federation.

_I'm coming Spock, just hold on. I'll be there soon._


	16. If I was whole I'd turn right now

The weight he felt in his shoulders was unbearable. The immense loss he felt across his whole being felt as if it was attempting to drag him down along with it. The pain was intense, unlike anything he felt before. The death of millions of vulcans and of his mother ripped at his soul in a single instant. He could not give in, could not surrender to the emotions that plagued him. Yet, as he watched the red sand and dust from his planet be wash down the drain in his quarters, he could feel himself giving into the anguish. His planet was gone. Vulcan was destroyed. His mother, his people, murdered. All he had left of his home was the last few red grains that were now being washed off of his hands.

Spock looked into his reflection, seeing hints of crimson on his face and in his hair. Spock was not a sentimental being by nature, but a part of him wanted to cling to the dirt, wanting to save the very last remainders of his world. He ran shaking fingers through his hair, brushing out the dirt, watching the red grains fall to the sink. Such a terrible demise for such a proud race. 

He could not save them, not the vulcans that perished, not his mother as she fell to her death, not the grains of red sand as they spilled into the drain. His world was gone, his mother was gone, his culture and its people were gone with only a few thousand to spare. Nothing, certainly not specks of Vulcan's land could bring any of it back. Spock took a step away from his mirror, away from the rest of himself. He could not give in. His crew needed him, Pike needed him. Earth needed him.

Darkness was all around him once more as eyes opened. Did his eyes open? Was he awake? Spock could hardly tell anymore. He could not tell when he was conscious or when he was dreaming. At times, he relayed darkness with being awake and memories to asleep, but several times he dreamt of darkness to wake and see only the absence of light or other times seeing images before him only for it to become apparent that none of what he saw was real. There was no way to tell them apart anymore. 

Chess was one of Spock's preferred past times. It demanded concentration, mental awareness of one's opponent and strategy. It challenged one's self as well as brought a need to conquer. Spock played every game as if it was a mental battle against a fierce opponent, and when it came to Jim, it was. The captain had surprised him early on with how well he played at chess. He, like in all things, had no logic to his movements. It was chaotic and would appear as if he had no idea what he was doing until the very end of the game where it all came together for one fantastic unexpected win, or at the very least, a very close game. Spock was wholly impressed and was eager to play with the captain since the first game they participated in. 

However, this was not one of those games. 

"Captain. It is your turn." 

Jim blinked as he sat up straighter in his chair. "What?" He had just been staring at the Vulcan on the other side of the chess board. His gaze returned to the three tier game, eyes sweeping across the pieces. He seemed confused, almost as if he was searching for the last movement made. 

"Perhaps we should conclude the game? It seems your focus is... Elsewhere." Spock was a bit disappointed but it did not show on his features or in the tone of his voice. Clearly the captain was lost in thought about something, perhaps the last planetary scanning or their last meeting.

"No, no its alright Spock, we can continue." Jim claimed as he moved a piece. A poor choice it would be. 

Brown eyes swept the board and unless Jim had some trick up his sleeve, in two movements, Spock would checkmate him. Like all beings, he enjoyed victory, but not when it came as easy as it would now. Spock released a breath before finding Jim's eyes on him once more. The gaze in those blue eyes were different, it seemed as if whatever the captain was thinking of must have ensnared him, for he was lost to the tide of his mind.

"Captain, if I may ask... What consumed your mind so?" Spock asked, hands crossing over his lap.

Jim blinked again, once more sitting up straighter. "Nothing. Nothing is on my mind."

Spock tilted his head to the side ignoring the board before him.

Jim sighed then, eyes down as he rubbed his hands nervously. "It's nothing... Not really. I just... I've been thinking... I... You see... I should go." He rambled until he excused himself all too quickly. He stood up hastily, bumping into the chess table, sending pieces tumbling off the board and onto the floor. "Oh shoot, I'm sorry!" 

Spock slid off the chair with all the grace of a vulcan and knelt down, picking up the fallen pieces. "Do not worry." 

Jim was before him in less than a second, gathering the pieces as well. "I'm such a klutz," he mumbled.

"It is quite alright captain." Assured the other. The two picked up the pieces before rising up, Spock placed them on the table and Jim held onto those he grabbed. There was a moment of silence, Jim watching the Vulcan as he looked back to his eyes. "Captain?"

"Right...here." Jim said and shoved the pieces onto the table. He seemed nervous again, unsure of what to do with himself. He stood rather close to Spock, but stepping back would seem too awkward at this moment, but standing so close to him made him flustered. 

"Jim?" Questioned the Vulcan softly, growing concerned. "Are you well?" Perhaps Jim was sick? 

Jim inhaled, eyes shifting from eyes to away. "I..." He ran a hand through his hair before shifting where he stood. He was so close to Spock, the other was watching him so closely, there was a flicker of worry in those deep brown eyes. "Spock..."

"Jim?" He wondered in return, the word rolling off his tongue.

Jim loved it when Spock spoke his name, it sounded so effortless and even exotic coming from his lips. He broke the distance between them, hands clasping the back of Spock's neck and kissed him before he could stop himself.

Spock blinked and inhaled sharply, shocked at the sudden movement, yet before he could react any further, Jim pulled away do suddenly, blue eyes wide in panic.

"Oh shit!" Jim backed away bumping into the chess table once more, sending pieces scattering to the ground. "Spock, I'm sorry! I wasn't-. I didn't-."

Yet the vulcan pushed forward, lips meeting Jim's once more and the captain melted against his first officer. Arms wrapped around Spock's shoulders as hands pressed against Jim's waist. Spock was surprised at the other but more so at himself. He had known he felt something for the captain, something that began as merely interest, a spark. Over the years the spark grew into a inferno, burning him from the inside out. The only thing that had prevented such an act was the thought that Jim saw him as only his officer, yet the kiss proved different and Spock would not let this moment slip his grasp. 

"Spock..." Jim groaned lightly into his lips, causing the other to shudder.

The kiss ended and Jim drew back, eyes locking onto Spock's gaze. He smiled, almost awkwardly, almost confidently. "Hey..."

Brown eyes opened to see only darkness once more. _Jim..._ Just another dream. He had had so many the past.... How many hours he had been here? He had stopped counting the seconds, stopped thinking of the time that passed. It helped in the beginning but the longer he remained alone, the more he felt he was losing himself. At times the darkness was quiet, peaceful almost but most of the time, it was a pit that consumed his soul and brought forth all sorts of demons and monsters. He thought he was alone, but if he was honest, he had no idea. At times he thought could hear movement, feel someone breathing on him, feel someone looking at him. Or was it all in his mind? 

He laid on his side, eyes open, or closed, it was difficult to tell. There was no movement, not a shift in the stale air, not a shuffle of life on the ground. It was complete and utter stillness with exception for the ragged breathing of the Vulcan. The sound of his wheezing breath was all that resonated in the cell.

Spock was lucid, memories and dreams plagued him and at times, he found himself smiling at the thought of Jim touching him or arguing with McCoy only for the emotion to fade away when it dawned on him they were ghosts of his past. How horrid it was for him, to find himself locked in Jim's arms or back on the bridge at the captain's side, believing for that instant he was home, only to have it ripped away from him every single time.

He laid on Jim's bed, far softer than his own, but that was just one of the perks for being captain. The lights were down, too dark to see but he could feel Jim's hands resting against his hips, stroking his sides, touching him everywhere. They brushed up his sides and back down to his thighs, simply touching his prone body. Jim's caresses left goosebumps in their wake, drawing a heated breath from the vulcan. Brown eyes closed, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as Jim leaned forward, kissing his shoulder. It felt so good. He could feel Jim's need slipping though the physical contact and the thought of Jim wanting him so bad caused him to gasp. He looked over his shoulder, whispering the blond's name and Jim responded by pressing lips against his own. 

"Spock." Jim breathed out, hands gripping his waist as he pressed himself closer to the vulcan. "Spock."

Spock gasped, trembling at the thought of Jim pressed against him, wanting him all over again.

Eyes opened to find himself in darkness once again. He was not in Jim's bed and Jim was not here, touching him, loving him. Jim was gone. Spock closed his eyes tightly, trying to reclaim the memory, trying to hold fast to it as it slipped away. If he thought hard enough, he was certain he could slip back into the memory, back into the moment Jim was against him. _There_ …he could feel Jim's hands against him, griping his waist once more. He relaxed until he felt a heated breath brushing his neck. Eyes flew open but it was the feeling of another body pressed against him that caused him to realize this was not a dream! He was not in Jim's bed and behind him was not Jim.

He tried to pull away but his strength was spent and the arms around him were stronger than he was. Hands held him in place as the body behind him pressed against him, pressing a very obvious erection against him. Panic flared up in him and Spock was forced onto his front and the individual behind him pushed his knees apart, rising up to his own. "S-stop!" Spock croaked, but his throat was so dry he could hardly get the plea out. 

"Be still!" A voice from the sabin behind him, a hand pressed against the back of Spock's neck forcing him down. "Stop fighting me." Demanded the voice as his other hand grabbed Spock's waist, grinding himself against the weakened officer.

"No! No! Release me! Leave me be!" Spock pleaded, trying to pull away, trying in vain to force the sabin off of him. The other grew tired of his struggles and grabbed hold of the gun he brought with him and struck Spock hard on the back of the head causing him to slump to the ground, unconscious and back into darkness.


	17. I'd forget it and just walk away

straining his hearing in an attempt to hear something, anything, to indicate another was with him. The seconds ticked by and nothing. He was alone again, had he dreamed it all? Perhaps… he had dreamed up so many false realities…

"Vulcan."

Spock tensed, eyes wild as he glanced around the darkness. A voice. He was not alone. Abruptly a light consumed the room, one so bright the Vulcan recoiled. It was blinding, he couldn't see anything, he covered his eyes with his hand to try and shield the light. 

Hands were on him, real hands, grabbing him, digging nails and fingertips into his skin. "On your feet." Sabins. Again.

Spock gasped in pain as his body protested to their jostling. Where was he? There was so much light. He turned his head around but the light was blinding causing him to close his eyes. He could not focus, couldn’t see. He was forced to his feet and pushed into moving. Not only was there pain, but one of his legs were terribly numb. That concerned him, he could not feel it at all. Spock blinked several times to try to adjust to the light but before he fully could, he was pushed forward and he stumbled to his hands and knees. Shaking, Spock drew himself in, arms wrapping around himself as he shifting up onto his knees, eyes slowly getting used to the light. The first thing his eyes focused on was Tsail standing before him with that wicked grin of his.

Spock averted his eyes quickly, looking away from that golden gaze as he curled in on himself. Why couldn't they simply leave him be? Clearly he was no threat to them. Why could they not leave him alone?

"I am quite surprised you are still alive." Said the Sabin leader as he stood before the injured vulcan. "I had expected you to die in there." He leaned in close, grasping Spock's jaw and forcing the Vulcan to look up at him. He saw what he finally wanted to see in those brown eyes. Emotion, terror. It filled the rebel leader with exhilaration. "I am making you an offer. Do you see this room?" He wondered as he stepped out of view, letting Spock take it in.

It was a room, not a cell, with a comfortable looking bed in one corner and a in-ground bath in another. The room was brightly lit , had high ceilings but the main center of attention was a table with warm food, pitcher of cool water and medical supplies.

"I will leave you in this room Spock, all this could be yours."

Spock inhaled sharply, eyes falling on the water and then he glanced over at the bowl of food, steam coming off of it. For the first time he felt the painful reminder of not having eaten in what felt like weeks. As Vulcan, he did not require food daily but it had been so long since he consumed anything. His mouth began to water at the thought of eating something warm and washing it down with cool water. 

"This could all be yours. Wouldn't you just love to have a bed to sleep on instead of the cold stone ground? Food and water to put in your stomach, a bath to clean off all that grime? Even medicine to take care of your injuries and wash away the pain? All you need to do is tell me what I need to know. Just give me the information I need and I will give this all to you." Tsail claimed, moving in close to Spock, allowing the wounded officer to look upon the promises of comfort. 

Spock closed his eyes, dread filling him. Give up the Federation for some food and medication... He would be dishonest if the offer did not tempt him. 

"Just think about it, Spock." Tsail's voice was alluring as he reached over and grabbed the bowl, moving it just before the Vulcan's face. “Do you smell it? How long has it been since you ate? Aren't you hungry?" He asked, stirring the food within, a billow of delicious smell wafting to Spock. 

Spock looked down at the bowl, almost groaning at the sight of it. It looked so good and so welcoming. He licked his dry and cracked lips at the thought it tasting the seasoned vegetables and rice before his gaze fell on the bed. To sleep on something soft...

"What is your answer Spock? All this for the data or back to the darkness?" Tsail pushed. "This is the last offer Vulcan. If you turn it down, you will be put back in the hole and you will never see light again." 

There was a wave of anxiety that overwhelmed Spock at that moment. He did not want to go back in there, back in the pit where disparity consumed his being. He lowered his head, considering, truly considering what to do. His gaze flickered to the food, the bed, the light, and his mind recalled the darkness. Fear gripped him and despite the shame he felt, Spock started to shake. He felt himself crumbling, he did not want to go back. He did not want to be in there again. The offer was tempting, would it matter if he told them? Would it truly matter? The Enterprise left him here in this hell, they forgot him, abandoned him, no longer cared about him.

_Jim._

No. Jim left him too. 

"Please... Please..." He whimpered, voice cracking.

Tsail grinned, seeing the Federation officer finally breaking from the torment. "Please what, Spock?"

_Jim._

"Please… just kill me." He could not betray Jim. He could not give the Federation up but he did not want to go back to the hole.

The grin faded from Tsail's lips. What? What! Even after the promises of comfort, of food, of medicine the fucking Vulcan still choose death over betraying Star fleet?! He threw the bowl down contents spilling across the ground as it shattered. He rose up to his feet, grabbing Spock by the neck and throwing him into the arms of his men. "Throw him back in the hole. Lock him up. He's never coming out alive."

Spock inhaled sharply as he was dragged away, away from the light and the food, back to the pit. "No, please, please don't put me back in there!" He tried but failed to force himself out of their arms. He was far too weak. "Please! Just end me! I do not want to go back in!"

Spock was thrown hard against the floor, pain flaring up in his body and he cried out. He forced himself onto his hands and knees, only for Tsail to kick him back onto the ground. “Damn you Vulcan! That was your last chance."

Spock withered, arms wrapping around his battered frame and he looked up to the other. “Just let me die."

Tsail pressed his foot against Spock's head, digging his heel into the other's skull, "Oh you will die, nice and slow in the hole." He nodded his head to one of the sabins at a control desk before stepping away from the trembling Vulcan. "Don't-." He attempted once more but a swift kick from Tsail silenced him.

"No Vulcan. I gave you a chance. Beam him in." A golden light consumed the Vulcan transporting him into the door less room and back into the overwhelming darkness. The dread grew as he saw nothing once more. He would never get out now. He would die here. Everything was spent, all Vulcan disciple was gone and Spock shook violently, cradling his throbbing head. He curled into a ball as darkness enveloped him and he sobbed, unheard, calling out for someone to please just end it all.


	18. Cause I've been told that I'm dragging it out

Sabin was finally in their view, the brown planet taking up their screen. Chekov had them hidden out of sight behind one of their three moons as Jim stood before his security detail. It was a risk, a difficult risk. One that could end very, very poorly. Lives could be lost and Spock could very well be dead. Those were the rebuttals sent his way, but Jim knew. He could feel it, Spock's emotions: the panic, the fear, the sorrow, the anxiety. What worried Jim the most was being too late, finding Spock only for the other to die in his arms or on a biobed in the medbay. He needed to prevent it, prevent losing Spock when he was so close and he as so very close.

 _I'm coming,_ Jim promised the other as he stood on the transporter deck, watching as Scotty nodded, hitting the button to send them down.

Three parties were headed down, one for a distraction and two for searching the base. It would be difficult, but the moment the party commed in the diversion was in progress, Jim readied himself. He lead one of the recon teams forward, ducking just out of sight near the hanger. Groups of Sabin renegades could be seen rushing by, making their way towards the loud explosions caused by the third team and once there was a clearing, Jim and his team made their way in. 

Obtaining some sort of ground plan was difficult, the building was nothing like Earth, Vulcan or any planet Jim had been on and they had spent such little time on the planet last time to actually remember anything besides the hanger. They would have to find Spock the old fashioned way. 

A flash of green caught Jim's eyes as he ran past behind a shuttle, the location where Spock was shot down. The blood hadn't even been washed away yet. The sight filled him with dread, there was so much blood, it was no wonder why he was assumed to be dead all those weeks ago. The group of three exited the hanger and found themselves in a large building, thankfully, no sabins in sight.

"Move quickly but quietly. Phasers set to stun." Jim ordered in a hush tone as they moved slowly down the corridor. Door by door they checked and the first several rooms revealed little but computers or makeshift sleeping quarters. A rounded corner provided empty hall ways but the next room caused the captain to stop in his tracks and stare. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. The room was drenched in dried green blood. Across one wall sat a table with all sorts of tools and weapons, most coated in the green stains. The crew behind him fell still for a moment before Hendorff spoke up, "Captain, we need to move."

Jim took a step back and away from the torture room, away from the rusted weapons and the stench of blood and decay. It was true. Dear God it was true… He was right. Spock, at least for moments after the shooting, was alive. Left behind to endure endless torture. The sight of the blood had the other members of his team searching in earnest. The room had only solidified what the captain had been saying the whole time. They had left one of their own.

Again they searched, looking through rooms and corridors. Twice they came across the enemy and quickly brought them down with a few well aimed phaser blasts before any alarms could be sound. Yet there was no sign of Spock. The parties were pushing a quarter of an hour and every minute longer was adding danger of being discovered.

Jim's comm beeped , "Kirk here," was his quiet response as he slowed by a corner, glancing around.

"Captain. There is no sign of the commander. Every room has been searched." Claimed Johnson, the lead of the second search party.

Jim sucked down another breath of air as he ran hand through his hair. Their time was running short. Eyes were in him and the second party could not find his location. He was here. Spock _was_ here. Jim glanced around their dark hallway and willed the Vulcan to appear. Please. Spock, _please._

"Captain." Someone had said. "The distraction party are engaged in battle." 

Their time was over. They could not remain longer. He rose the comm to his lips, "Johnson, return to the ship." With Johnson and his team being boarded back on the ship, he knew he could not risk remaining behind much longer. "Kirk to Enterprise. Beam aboard party three." The distraction party would be seen to safety. They were next. Jim shook his head. "One more room." Just one more chance. One more minute. He was so close. Spock was here. He was. He had to be, the interrogation room was proof of that. 

He would not leave Spock again.

Jim led the way and they pushed forward, eyes taking in every inch of their corridor for something, anything that would lead him to Spock. Another room searched and all that was before them was an empty space with wall to wall computer consoles but no Vulcan. Jim released a heavy breath. No. No, no. He couldn't give up. Not now. Not yet. Instead of calling their search to a close, Jim broke the distance to one of the many screens on the far wall and searched the camera feeds for dungeons or prison cells. He could see the Sabins searching for those who set off the grenades, could see the Sabins that remained behind in the base, guns up and screens of empty rooms. No Vulcan in sight. 

No! 

"Captain. What is that?" Hendorff asked, pointing to a screen that held only thermal images.

Blue eyes flickered up to take in the image of the empty room that the other motioned to. No, not empty, there was mass, laying utterly still on the ground. The coloring was off, nearly as cold as the surrounding stone but a few degrees higher. His breath hitched as he searched for the controls of room it laid within. He began to push them at random. He needed to find that room, he needed to get in there.

"Captain, there is sabin reinforcements on their way," someone called out watching the screens, but Jim wasn't listening. He needed to know. He needed to see. He hit buttons when unexpectedly as a gold light appeared behind him. Jim turned and watched as an unclothed, bruised and battered Vulcan materialize before them.

"Spock!" Jim was at his side, hands reaching out but not touching. Blood drained from Jim's face at the sight of his commander, laying limp on the ground, unresponsive and did not appear to be breathing. His head was shaved, large deep green and blue bruises covered his body, open wounds oozed blood, his arm twisted in an unsightly angle.

Hendorff behind him was calling to Jim, reminding him of their need to leave and Jim grabbed the comm, requesting a beam up, directly to the medbay. Spock was here, _Spock was alive._ Barely and in desperate need of medical attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the terribly long wait, had a lot of things at home going on that kept me away. Thank you for sticking with me and I hope you enjoyed this post! I know you all waited for this moment!
> 
> Not sure if anyone has searched up the song Ricochet from Starset that the lyrics are the song titles, but they just released the acoustic version that the mood fits this story so well! I recommend looking it up. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles as well as story title are from the song Ricochet by Starset.


End file.
